Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly
Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly
“Ah, you must be the new nothos on the island.” The woman smiles, her fleshy cheeks pushing out into pink apples. “I am Lilika, a descendant of Hestia. My recipes come from the goddess of the hearth herself and are unmatched in all the world.” “So nice to meet you, Lilika,” Mom says. She wraps her fingers around my T-shirt sleeve and jerks my attention away from the baklava. “I’m Valerie Petrolas, and this is my daughter, Phoebe.” I’m so captivated by the display of treats that I barely register the fact that Mom introduced herself as a Petrolas. “Holy crap!” I drop to my knees, pressing my face closer to the glass. Closer to the treat to end all treats. “Is that . . . bougatsa?” “The young lady has a favorite, no?” Lilika moves around behind the case, sliding open the panel in the back. “This is my favorite as well.” “We have to get some, Mom.” I look up at her, pleading. She doesn’t answer, so I crawl closer until I’m at her feet. The bell over the front door rings but I don’t care. I’m focused on begging. Nothing but that sweet custard and cheese pastry could reduce me to begging—well, that and the new Nike+ with built-in iPod sensor. “Please, please, please.” Mom laughs. Lilika, who is busy pulling the bougatsa out of the case, glances up to see who walked in. “Moro mou!” she squeals. She slides the tray back into the case. “Pou sas echei ontas, Griffin?” I only understand one word of what she says, but that name is all I need to know that mortification is in my future. My very near future. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while, Aunt Lili,” the voice that I dread hearing says. “I’ve been busy.” Maybe it’s my imagination, but I can feel him staring at me. 144
Who wouldn’t stare at a girl on her knees in the middle of a bakery, pleading with her mom for some stupid pastry. Even if it is the most delicious, custardy pastry she’s ever eaten. Carefully, so I don’t draw attention to myself in the off chance that he hasn’t noticed me, I push off the floor. Still, I can’t turn around. Having Griffin laugh at me at school in front of a ton of kids I don’t even know was bad enough, but I don’t think I’d survive him laughing at me in front of Mom. The kids at the Academy won’t even exist on my radar in nine months. Mom is my mom forever. “Silly boy,” Lilika says. Then she gasps. “Of course, you must meet Phoebe. She is new to the Academy. Sweetheart,” she says and I can tell she’s turned her attention back to me, “I’d like you to meet my nephew, Griffin.” “Phoebe,” he says, his voice low and steady. No emotion. Against my better judgment I turn around to face him. I clasp my hands behind my back so I’m not tempted to wave like a total dork. “Griffin.” He looks adorable, as always. Droplets of water hang off his dark curls, like he just took a shower, and the red cotton of his T-shirt clings in a few choice places. He’s watching me with a fixed, unreadable gaze. I can’t tell if he’s furious or completely unaffected by my presence. “Wonderful.” Lilika claps her hands. “You have already met.” “We’re on the cross-country team together, Aunt.” I expect him to add something jerky like, “For now.” Or, “Until she loses that first race.” When he doesn’t, I tilt my head, wondering if I’m looking at the real Griffin Blake. Sure looks like him. “You must be Mrs. Petrolas,” he says, stepping forward and holding out his hand to Mom. “Griffin Blake.” 145
- Page 101 and 102: “Of course,” she says with that
- Page 103 and 104: eight homework problems are going t
- Page 105 and 106: He points to the chair in front of
- Page 107 and 108: “Son of a—” “Something wron
- Page 109 and 110: TrojanTiger: just wanted to check i
- Page 111 and 112: To my total shock, Damian laughs ou
- Page 113 and 114: Coach Lenny starts scribbling on th
- Page 115 and 116: I gasp. At first I think she must n
- Page 117 and 118: perate. She pauses in the doorway,
- Page 119 and 120: “You will if you want to get back
- Page 121 and 122: “Mmnff,” I grumble and settle b
- Page 123 and 124: “You can’t run and do schoolwor
- Page 125 and 126: What can I say about Griffin Blake?
- Page 127 and 128: I sign off, sad to be so far away f
- Page 129 and 130: can do. But—and this is a big but
- Page 131 and 132: “That’s ridiculous,” Troy say
- Page 133 and 134: gesturing at the airplane and indic
- Page 135 and 136: much as I do—has to have a pure h
- Page 137 and 138: Bat, bat, bat. Biting my lip, I try
- Page 139 and 140: going to eat some of the questionab
- Page 141 and 142: for the blob she flung at the ceili
- Page 143 and 144: I’ve ever heard. I turn away from
- Page 145 and 146: “Thank—” “Well, well, well,
- Page 147 and 148: Everyone turns to stare at her as s
- Page 149 and 150: you’ll find a way.” I lay a rea
- Page 151: proving. He points at me. The sand
- Page 155 and 156: paper bag in his left hand. My hear
- Page 157 and 158: comfy gray sweats. I feel practical
- Page 159 and 160: accept responsibility for his actio
- Page 161 and 162: “Right,” he says, his eyes snap
- Page 163 and 164: “No, really, that’s not nec—
- Page 165 and 166: He nods once. “How many of you ar
- Page 167 and 168: I was taunting him in the qualifyin
- Page 169 and 170: Oh. My. God. I totally forgot the s
- Page 171 and 172: LostPhoebe: just some junk about sc
- Page 173 and 174: NaughtyNic: did she freak out? Lost
- Page 175 and 176: LostPhoebe: um, not anymore Princes
- Page 177 and 178: While everyone moves to a machine,
- Page 179 and 180: friendly advice when suddenly her a
- Page 181 and 182: fifty years in a day.” Then, purs
- Page 183 and 184: though I didn’t mean to do it, it
- Page 185 and 186: he said, We can easily forgive a ch
- Page 187 and 188: Somehow that’s more appropriate f
- Page 189 and 190: teau and any day now I’m going to
- Page 191 and 192: From the corner of my eye I see the
- Page 193 and 194: Griffin adds, “I’ll make sure s
- Page 195 and 196: “Fine.” I turn off the track, h
- Page 197 and 198: “Oh really?” I ask, trying for
- Page 199 and 200: He makes no indication he even hear
- Page 201 and 202: announcement wouldn’t be made unt
Who wouldn’t stare at a girl on her knees in the middle of a bakery,<br />
pleading with her mom for some stupid pastry. Even if it is the<br />
most delicious, custardy pastry she’s ever eaten.<br />
Carefully, so I don’t draw attention to myself in the off chance<br />
that he hasn’t noticed me, I push off the floor. Still, I can’t turn<br />
around. Having Griffin laugh at me at school in front of a ton of<br />
kids I don’t even know was bad enough, but I don’t think I’d survive<br />
him laughing at me in front of Mom. The kids at the Academy won’t<br />
even exist on my radar in nine months. Mom is my mom forever.<br />
“Silly boy,” Lilika says. Then she gasps. “Of course, you must<br />
meet Phoebe. She is new to the Academy. Sweetheart,” she says and<br />
I can tell she’s turned her attention back to me, “I’d like you to meet<br />
my nephew, Griffin.”<br />
“Phoebe,” he says, his voice low and steady. No emotion.<br />
Against my better judgment I turn around to face him. I clasp<br />
my hands behind my back so I’m not tempted to wave like a total<br />
dork. “Griffin.”<br />
He looks adorable, as always. Droplets of water hang off his dark<br />
curls, like he just took a shower, and the red cotton of his T-shirt clings<br />
in a few choice places. He’s watching me with a fixed, unreadable gaze.<br />
I can’t tell if he’s furious or completely unaffected by my presence.<br />
“Wonderful.” Lilika claps her hands. “You have already met.”<br />
“We’re on the cross-country team together, Aunt.”<br />
I expect him to add something jerky like, “For now.” Or, “Until<br />
she loses that first race.” When he doesn’t, I tilt my head, wondering<br />
if I’m looking at the real Griffin Blake. Sure looks like him.<br />
“You must be Mrs. Petrolas,” he says, stepping forward and holding<br />
out his hand to Mom. “Griffin Blake.”<br />
145
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